


Hawkeye's One Shot

by CSP2708



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Archery, Clint Barton's Bow & Arrows, Competition, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Gen, One Shot, Technology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26741176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CSP2708/pseuds/CSP2708
Summary: Hawkeye hadn't planned to spend the morning in the training room. He certainly hadn't planned on spending it in an archery competition just to shut Tony up about his "new and improved" bow. Like anything could improve Hawkeye's bow.Nonetheless, he was here to prove Tony wrong.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov
Kudos: 11





	Hawkeye's One Shot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [H_Faith_Marr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/H_Faith_Marr/gifts).



How did he get into this mess again? Oh, yeah. A stupid bet. A bet and Tony’s all-encompassing ego. Whatever. He would get what was coming to him. No machine could trump good old-fashioned skill. 

The challenge was simple, really. They each had one shot, straight across the room, where a gloriously red apple perched on the podium. Between them and the apple were several spinning targets, each with varyingly narrower slices cut out of them. As he watched, a split second opening revealed the apple, only for it to disappear again. 

Tony, standing several metres to his left, had an identical setup in front of him. In his hands was the most atrocious, eye-offending bow Clint had ever seen. It was a compound bow of sorts, like his own, though nothing like his own. Tony’s had dials and cords and mechanics in outlandish quantities. How he even held the thing was a mystery, but his hands were slotted around the grip and bowstring, which were hidden behind sights and stabilizers. 

“Ready to go, Legolas?” he asked, cocky as ever.

“Whenever you are, Stark.” Clint didn’t need any back and forth banter. He would let his archery do the talking.

Tony rolled his eyes. He looked at his apple. “FRIDAY, prep arrow.”

His AI lit up in the bow, and the Irish-lilted voice replied,  _ “Scanning target. Nocking arrow.” _ An arrow swiftly moved from the mounted quiver, locking itself onto the bowstring.  _ “Ready to fire.” _

“Fire away, FRIDAY.”

Gears whirred. The bowstring pulled itself back, singing like a cicada at midnight. A red light blinked on the viewfinder. 

Red… 

Red… 

Red… 

Green.

The arrow sprung out, hurtling toward the spinning targets. It passed through each of them perfectly. The fletching just barely brushed against the sides of the final one as it passed through.

_ Thwack! _

The apple vanished, becoming nothing more than a red blur as it sailed backward and hit the floor. The arrow arced proudly from its centre.

“Ha! Beat that, Barton!”

Clint didn’t reply. His eyes were on his own apple, watching as it appeared and vanished, appeared and vanished, appeared and vanished behind the targets. He lifted his bow, nocked an arrow, and drew the string back to his cheek. 

One breath in. 

One breath out. 

Breathe in…

He fired.

The arrow whistled loudly in the silence of the training room. He could hear it like the rushing of blood in his ears, overpowering everything else - including, thankfully, Tony’s annoying voice. Clint remained frozen in place even as the arrow passed through the targets, one after the other, never wavering.

It struck the apple, just like Tony’s had, but instead of crashing to the ground, the momentum kept it going, farther and farther until it pierced the wall.

Finally, Clint breathed again, turning to Tony with a smirk. “How was that for  _ old fashioned _ , Stark?” He didn’t even wait for an answer as he turned and walked away, high-fiving Natasha.


End file.
